Care
by dorydafish
Summary: Post S2. Mickey walks into Kash and Grab after he's released from Juvie - "Eventually when Ian said nothing for a full five minutes, he shoved the magazine back. "What?" he growled out in his usual gruff voice." IANxMICKEY
1. Chapter 1

**So I tried to make this leave my brain but it wouldn't, so I thought I would try to write it down. Just another take on what happens when Mickey gets out of Juvie.**

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Mickey Milkovich rubbed his thumb across his bottom lip before crossing the street to Kash and Grab. He took a magazine off of the rack without looking and flicked through it, not really reading, but not really wanting to look up at the boy he knew was staring at him.

Eventually when Ian said nothing for a full five minutes, he shoved the magazine back. "What?" he growled out in his usual gruff voice.

Ian stared for a few more seconds. Like he was trying to work out what to say or do. Mickey wasn't a patient guy usually, but instead of barking he just rolled his eyes.

In the end Ian settled for blowing up in Mickey's face. "_What?_ How about, what the fuck are _you _doing here?"

Mickey shrugged, knowing that it would get the red-head even more worked up. But he liked that. Ian was a fucking firecracker in bed when he was pissed. Sometimes Mickey would wind him up about Mandy just so Ian would do him harder. It was no secret that Mickey liked it rough. But it was a secret that Mickey liked it pussy slow when he was hungover or feeling lazy as fuck. He figured Ian could probably tell anyway. He fucking hated that sometimes the redhead knew exactly what he was thinking without saying a word.

Mickey pointed at his security jacket. "That bitch Linda let me had my old job back. Hit me up when you're going on break. I need you to blow me. I'll be out back having a nap. You get no sleep in that shithole."

"Are you fucking kidding me, Mickey? After everything, you want me to blow you?" Ian stepped closer annoyed as hell and Mickey could see just how much the other boy has changed in 6 months. Gallagher had gotten taller, if that was even possible. His red hair was cropped shorter. And even though Ian was just wearing a regular t-shirt, the bulging of his biceps were clearly on display.

Mickey unconsciously licked his lips as he readjusted himself through his jeans. Shit down there was getting uncomfortably tight. "Yeah. Problem? I haven't gotten any for 6 months. In case you hadn't noticed, I was banged up."

Ian scoffed and threw his hands in the air. "You are unbelievable!"

Mickey smirked back. "I know. So are we going to fuck or what?"

Mickey didn't expect Ian to sigh and stop shouting altogether. He didn't expect Ian to just shake his head and just go back to the cash register. But that's exactly what happened. And he watched, unsure of what to make of it all.

Even then he couln't stop himself from blurting out, "What the fuck?" Because really he didn't know.

"Just...forget it," Ian mumbled.

Mickey narrowed his eyes as he glared at Ian, getting more and more annoyed. The kid just wouldn't look up. "You got a problem with me, Gallagher?"

"You just don't give a shit about anything or anyone, do you?" Ian said. Mickey was surprised by the amount of bitterness in Ian's voice but he'd be damned if he showed it.

Sneering, Mickey crossed his arms over his chest. He didn't know what the fuck was going on but he was starting to get a weird feeling at the pit of his stomach and he didn't like it one bit. "So? Didn't stop you fucking me all those times before."

Ian's face twisted in disgust. "Ugh. Just do me a favour and find some other guy's warm mouth. Because that's all I am, right? Stay out of my life. We're done, remember?"

Mickey cocked his head and furrowed his eyebrows. He wasn't following. "The fuck?"

Ian clenched his jaw and spoke through gritted teeth. "Did you know how much it fucking hurt when I finally realised that I mean nothing to you? When I finally realised that you don't care and never will?"

Mickey didn't respond straight away. He didn't know how to. This was definitely not one of the times that Ian knew what Mickey was thinking. Mickey thought he hated that even more. After all the shit that he had been through over the past six months, the thought that Ian was going to be there ready for to fuck, was the only thing that got him through. He closed his eyes and ignored the strong pounding in his chest. He took a sharp intake of breath as he opened his eyes, knowing that Ian was looking anywhere but at him.

"Okay," he said calmly. Almost eerily.

"Okay?" This time Ian looked straight at him.

"Tell Linda I quit." Mickey didn't wait for an answer as he headed to the door. He wasn't going to give Gallagher the satisfaction of seeing him loose his shit. But for some reason he just had to turn back. "I didn't fucking kill Frank," he spat out, before storming away, shouldering Lip as he went.

* * *

Lip walked into the store just as Mickey walked out. "You're boyfriend's pissed. You had a fight?"

Ian tried to steady his breathing before he spoke. "He's not my boyfriend. He's a prick."

Lip shrugged as he leant against the counter top. "What's new? Want to talk about it?"

"We had a fight just before Mickey went to Juvie. This was round two. It's...it doesn't matter." Ian said trailing off. He didn't want to talk about how he was fucked up in the head because of Mickey of all people.

"Try me."

Ian sighed and summarised the best he could in a defeated voice. "Frank caught us fucking and Mickey wanted to kill him. I told him not to and he said I was just a warm mouth and then he got put in Juvie for punching a cop. He came back wanting to fuck, but I told him to find other warm mouth and he told me that he didn't kill Frank and left. Fuck! He's such a dick. I don't even know why I fucking care."

Lip blinked a few times before speaking. "Holy shit."

Ian nodded. "I know. I'm well shot of him. I'm surprised he didn't even put up a fight. Just fucking left. Like the coward he is."

Lip gave Ian a look of disbelief. "Are you stupid? Did you just not hear yourself? He didn't kill Frank."

" So?" Ian stared at his brother blankly. What the hell was Lip going on about?

Lip looked at Ian as if he was a fucking moron. Ian thought that maybe he was, because he really didn't get what shitty point Lip was making this time. "It's Mickey Milkovich! You told him not to kill Frank. Frank is still alive."

"I don't-"

Lip shook his head and took a breath. "When have you known Mickey Milkovich to ever do something that someone asked him to? Even Mandy can't get him to shower once a week."

"What are you-?" Ian started but then it suddenly clicked. He swallowed as he gave Lip a look of final realisation.

Lip clapped him on the back in mock congratulations. "He didn't kill Frank, Ian. If that doesn't mean Mickey fucking cares, I don't know what does."

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**It's kinda mushy for Mickey, right? :s**

**I want to write a second part where Ian goes to find Mickey so let me know if I should.**

**DDF**

**XXX**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for all the lovely reviews! I'm sorry in advanced for the way this turned out.**

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Mickey punched one of the concrete pillars under the bridge.

He hated Ian Gallagher.

He hated his stupid face, his fucked up grin and the way he never shut his mouth. He hated how he snored and the way Mickey would wake up to find him pressed up against him. He hated how Ian would tangle his legs with Mickey's as if to say, Mickey belonged to him.

Mickey had shoved Ian awake and told him never to pull shit like that the first couple of times. But Ian still did it and Mickey had grown tired of giving him a dead arm every morning. Especially if it meant that he wouldn't get a quick hand job before Ian snuck out of his window.

And Mickey hated Ian's hair. How it stood out so much, like it was fucking proud to be different. Mickey didn't like being different. He hated it. He hated the fact that he automatically jumped every time his dad came into his room because maybe that was the day Frank had opened his big fat mouth. He hated that he wasn't in control. Because Mickey Milkovich was always in control.

But mostly, he hated that he had ever fucked Ian Gallagher. Because ever since then everything had fucked up. He wasn't supposed to give a shit about anyone. He was meant to be unapproachable. Tough. A Milkovich. Everyone used to be scared of him. Not anymore. Not since Ian. Even Lip Gallagher seemed to think that they were friends or some shit.

For some reason Ian just grinned when Mickey threatened hm. Like he didn't believe for one single moment that Mickey would actually take a swing at him now they were fucking. Even though Mickey had put enough people in hospital to even count on two hands. The scary thing was, Mickey didn't know if he could actually fuck Ian up anymore. He didn't know that he would ever want to. He'd pussied out of killing Frank just because Ian had told him to. The boy had completed fucked with his head.

Mickey punched the pillar again because it was all so stupid. Ian didn't want him around. Mickey didn't blame him. He'd always wondered why Ian hung about for so long. And even though Ian was younger than him, from day one Mickey could tell that Ian knew exactly what he was doing. At first it was fucking awesome because Mickey didn't know what he liked. It wasn't like he had been parading his gayness to the rest of the world so it was probably obvious to Ian that it had been Mickey's first time. Not that he didn't give as good as he got. Mickey may have only fucked one guy in his life, but from the noises Ian made, he knew he wasn't bad at it.

But now Mickey wondered if Ian had found someone else. Someone who fucked better. Someone who gave better head. Mickey kind of wanted to throw up at the thought of Ian's dick up someone else's ass. He wondered just how many guys Ian had had in the last six months.

Breathing heavily, Mickey leant against the concrete and inspected his knuckles. He was bleeding and one knuckle was so swollen that it was more than likely he had broken it. But he didn't have time to inspect it further as he heard an all too familiar voice.

"You're bleeding."

Ian Gallagher was walking towards him. Mickey didn't want him to. Mickey didn't want him to even be there. Ian had told him to stay away from him so why the fuck had Gallagher come looking for him.

"I don't give a shit," he replied as steadily as he could while his knuckles throbbed.

Mickey didn't expect Ian to take his shirt off and throw it over. The Milkovich boy stared at the black clothing before looking up. He regretted it instantly. How was he meant to keep hating the guy when he stood there looking so fuckable?

Ian gave him a small smile. "I do. Put it around your hand."

Mickey paused for a few seconds, wondering what it was about Ian that stopped him thinking straight. He threw the shirt back and shook his head slightly before walked away in the opposite direction. He didn't count on Ian grabbing his good wrist and to try and stop him.

"Don't touch me," he growled dangerously. Mickey wasn't in the mood to play. Fuck. All he wanted to do was raid the store down on 9th Avenue and get off his face on Vodka.

"Come on, Mick-"

And that was another thing that Mickey hated. Ian calling him Mick. Everyone else called him Mickey or Milkovich but it was like Ian thought he knew Mickey better than anyone else. For a fleeting moment Mickey wondered why he'd never called Gallagher out on that shit before but he stopped himself. He decided he didn't want to know.

Mickey clenched his jaw cracking his neck on either side to show that he wasn't messing. "Drop the fucking hand."

"No," Ian said defiantly. They both knew Mickey wasn't going to take a swing at him, no matter how much he wanted to. And Ian took this as leverage to shove Mickey hard enough so that he would fall onto the soft grass below.

Mickey yelped and cursed loudly as Ian pinned him down, wrists above his head and while Ian sat on his thighs. Somewhere in the back of Mickey's mind, he was kind of impressed. The little fucker ROTC training was paying off. But Mickey didn't take the pinning down lightly. He twisted and wriggled and when that didn't work he hacked up a ball of spit and aimed straight for Gallagher's face. Unfortunately, it only caught his shoulder.

Ian smirked down at him. "Classy."

"Fuck you," Mickey retorted as he struggled again. But he instinctively stopped as Ian leaned down closer, his mouth close to Mickey's right ear.

"Why didn't you kill Frank?" Ian's voice was low. Lower than his usual register. The vibrations went straight to Mickey's dick.

"Get the fuck off of me!" Mickey shouted, trying again.

"Tell me why you didn't kill Frank, and I will." Ian's face was now inches from his. Mickey could feel Ian's disgustingly blue eyes bore into his.

It was fucked.

The whole situation was fucked.

And it was all Gallagher's fault.

And if Mickey was a pussy he might have said that they shared a moment or some shit. Because the way Gallagher was looking at him was all kinds of fucked up. Mickey didn't stop staring back. And Ian was still waiting for his answer. So Mickey gave him one. "Figured that punching a cop looked better than murder on my resume."

Ian blinked once before his face split into one of those stupid grins. Mickey scowled. In fact he was so busy scowling that he didn't register that Ian had closed the gap between them with a soft kiss.

The next thing Mickey felt was Ian jumping off of him, still grinning like a fucking moron.

"Did you just fucking kiss me?" Mickey asked half in shock and half impressed that Ian had the guts to go there.

"Yeah," Ian said without regret.

Mickey leaned up onto his elbows and narrowed his eyes. "Do that again, and I'll-"

Ian cocked his head to the side and raised his eyebrows. "Rip my fucking tongue out?"

Mickey clenched his jaw but said nothing as he picked up Ian's t-shirt and wrapped it around his hand. It wasn't the best bandage but it would do for now. He could see Ian staring at him, the little prick was still smiling.

Mickey didn't know when he had turned such a fucking girl but he allowed himself to smirk back for just one second. Mickey watched as Ian glanced at his crotch area before looking back up at Mickey's face. The blood flow to his dick increased tenfold.

Ian walked closer and leaned down, enough to get a grip on Mickey's belt buckle. "So how about that blow you wanted?"

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**Even I can't take the amount of sappiness in this.**

**The kiss wasn't meant to be there but I couldn't help it. And obviously Mickey didn't admit that he cared because well he's Mickey, but Ian knew anyway.**

**Please review, even if it was to tell me how much of a disappointment the second half was :P**


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